Love Hurts
by belly4me
Summary: Set just after 'Once More, With Feeling' 6x07 Buffy realises that she needs Spike more than she knows and their relationship grows as Buffy heals from her death experience. Ongoing process, may be rated M in later chapters.


Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer...yet

AN - This is my first Spike and Buffy story although Spuffy have always had a place in my heart! Not reall sure where this story is going yet, hopefully i will work it out in time and with the help of all you willing readers and reviewers out there!

I hope you like it. Please review to let me know what you think. Enjoy :)

* * *

It hurts.

Dinner was a silent affair. Willow and Tara had cooked while Dawn and I watched TV. Pretended to watch. I could tell she didn't even know what was on. And all I watched was her. She seemed...afraid. But not even that; it was like when she was a little girl and she'd lose her blankie.

And it was my entire fault.

Only a few days ago I'd told them, no, sang to them; that I'd been in heaven. What was I supposed to do? It wasn't my fault; that stupid dancing demon made me do it. And now my life was even worse than before. Unfortunately this wasn't something I could fight. I couldn't look for it in Giles' books; Willow couldn't do a spell to...do a revealy thing or something, and Xander wasn't even around for me to save from an evil thingy.

The only person who treated me the same as normal was Spike. Great (read sarcastic tone).

So now I was sitting here, at the table, surrounded by silent people. And it wasn't even because The Gentlemen had invaded and stolen our voices. Again...great. Tara shifted in her chair and coughed. I peeked at her out the corner of my eye, hoping she might break this incredibly thick and annoying ice. Or not. I stared at Dawnie. She was my sister; nothing could stop her from annoying me. Except, I decided after a few minutes of pointless glaring, this stupid ice.

Ok, that was it. I'd had enough. If they weren't going to talk to me...I wouldn't talk to them. And for all you wannabe Giles's out there, I did not just stamp my foot...and I'm not acting immature.

So I left.

With one final, and pretty damn good glare at the table, I stood up, flicked my hair (I could so be in a soapie) and strutted (Captain Subtext: stomped) to my room. I shut (CS: slammed) my door closed, and...and...had nothing to do. Great. I really gotta stop saying that. Maybe I'll just shut my eyes for a sec. You know, I have to be a rested slayer to be an effective slayer...or something like that.

_Why does it hurt?_

White. Heaven. Pure.

Strange. Magic. Vortex.

Awake. Coffin. Disoriented.

Scared. Buried. Lost.

Pain. Death. Blank.

_I'm not sure._

I opened my eyes slowly. Unable to focus in the dark room, I slowly raised myself till I was sitting. The moon shone weakly through the window, and I cried. It was the first time I'd dreamt about it. About coming back from the dead. I didn't know what to do; it brought back so many of the memories, of the feelings.

I had been content. Loved. Cherished. Peaceful. Serene. At peace.

Now all I felt was black. Dirty. Pain. Confused. Incomplete. Without hope.

I had to get out, leave.

I couldn't do this.

_Then I can't help you._

I stood before it. Trembling. From the cold, the dream, the hole my life had become, I didn't know. What did I know? I knew I couldn't do this alone. So I raised my hand and knocked. Not my best, or usual, way of entering but I hoped he would respect my 'politeness.' If knocking on someone's door at 3 in the morning had any semblance of polite.

I waited. And waited. And for a whole extra 10 seconds after that, waited. Ok, I wasn't being that patient. So I kicked down the door, and walked in. I mean, it wasn't like he owned the place. It took about 30 seconds after that for me to realise that he wasn't here. Not good. I was trying to stay in control, but all I wanted to do was unload my emotional burden...onto him. This (apart from the fact that my night-time is his daytime) could be the reason for his absence. I closed my eyes, concentrating on remembering to breathe. I had thought he would be here...had _known_. I guess coming back from the dead can really screw with your intuition.

Think Buffy think. Where would he be? Oh wait, I know. Down at his 'joint' enjoying a little bit of kitty poker. I'll go down and show them what to do with the kitties. And where to shove their poker cards. That is, do demons have a...ok, off topic, bad Buffy. Although it's Wednesday (or was); I can't remember him having kitty poker on Wednesdays. So maybe it was get drunk at Willy's night. No...couldn't be; he'd be politely asked to leave with a boot up his backside now he was helping us. So I had no idea where he was. This was the best night in my entire post, post-mortem life.

I was exhausted. The restless night, the dream...I could feel it all building up. Maybe I would just lie down on the bed, just for a teensy weensy second. Then, when he came home, I'd get up, pretend I hadn't been waiting (or looking) for him and leave (CS: bash him a bit and march out).

It sounded like a plan to me...and plans were always good, right?

_Don't leave me._

I kicked out at the gravestone.

'Stupid bloody bint,' I growled to myself. 'Always around when I'm trying to forget about her. And she's the one who keeps bloody telling me I'm not wanted.' I lashed out again, this time the force of my kick cracked the old stone in half, not that I cared.

'Yeah, cause I'm the Big Bad. And she better not forget it! She thinks she can step all over my feelings just because I can't bloody attack her now? Well she better watch out! One of these days I'm gonna creep up on that Slayer...'

'Oh no, not again,' a whiny voice interrupted from behind me, 'I thought you'd given up on all of that Slayer revenge stuff.'

I turned around slowly; knowing who it was but hoping I was wrong. Unfortunately the gods had decided that my life wasn't worthy of any luck (meeting Buffy not included) and I swivelled around to find Harmony, wearing the most hideous pink stretchy pant thing I have ever seen. And that's saying something considering the fashions I've seen Buffy and her little Scoobies wear.

I faked a smile, 'Harmony. What are you doing around this neck of the woods? Come back to find yourself another gang?' I snorted silently while she pouted at me.

'No. Spikey I came back for you. I thought, "You know what, maybe I will give my snookums another chance." And so here I am, and I'm ready to commit to a relationship.'

I was speechless by then. I mean, I didn't think the bint was that stupid. But come on; thinking it was her that had had the problem in our "relationship"? I don't think so. It wasn't even a real relationship...it was sex. Just bloody sex. And it wasn't even that good. Not that she ever realised, "she who must not be bad at anything."

'Harm...,' was all I managed to spit out before a barrel of blonde not-so-goodness crashed into me. Peppering kisses all over my (obviously- well I thought so) unhappy face, she exclaimed,' Spikey...oh Spikey I knew you could never resist me.'

I pushed her off me, and, in an attempt to stop any other unwanted advances, hid behind a grave. Oh the courage of a vampire. I glanced around the gravestone to find Harmony, nursing her hand (was that a broken _nail_?), still in a heap on the ground.

'Harm,' I started again, 'I don't want to be in a relationship with you. When will you get it through your large hair? Never. I don't want you. That's it. End of question.'

She looked up at me pleadingly, 'but Spikey….I don't understand. What's keeping you from me? Aren't I pretty enough for you?' Please don't let it be _that_ argument. Why is it that women always feel they aren't pretty enough when someone breaks up with them? Not that I was bloody breaking up with her! We'd only been through this a hundred bleeding times before! I knelt down beside her, while she continued to stare at me with what she thought were convincing puppy-dog eyes.

'I'm sorry Harm, but you're just not the right woman for me. It's not that you're not pretty pet…it's just me. I'm moving onto another stage in my life,' and hopefully another person if she'll take me. I stood up then, extending my arm towards the fallen vampiress, which she proceeded to ignore, standing up, and, somewhat ungracefully, stomping away.

Why am I cursed with stomping and rebellious women?

_Then tell me what's wrong._


End file.
